


Status Quo

by operahousehomicide



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 19:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operahousehomicide/pseuds/operahousehomicide
Summary: Gaston and Lefou have a little bachelor's cottage at the edge of the village, where they spend their evenings sharing stew and lounging before the fire. Gaston reads aloud to Lefou. Lefou finds contentment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Good stuff gooooood stuff

It was in moments like these that Lefou had always cherished Gaston the most.

The fire in the fireplace crackled away, flames lapping at the iron belly of the pot held aloft above it. Earthy aromas of the slowly roiling stew filled the air, the heat of the fire curling along the bricks of the hearth and warming the atmosphere.

The house was small, but more than enough for them to live together in comfortably. They had been together during the war, a captain and his aide-de-camp, and were still together now. Gaston had simply never left Lefou’s side when the fighting had finally ceased and they were discharged from their commissions. This had left them returning to the village Lefou’s family hailed from. They’d lived briefly in his childhood home, but soon moved into a little cottage on the edge of the village. Two bachelors, finding comfort in each other’s company.

Lefou had never tried to convince himself it was any more than that.

But at times like this, with his cheek resting against Gaston’s thigh, the other’s fingers threading through his hair, his voice rumbling as he read a passage aloud from the novel they were reading together, Lefou had never felt more at home. He felt all the part of the wife, and it never ceased to astound him how truly Gaston played the part of the husband.

He may not have been doting, but, there were circumstances in which Gaston was nothing but exactly what Lefou needed. During the war, they had sought comfort in one another. Lefou had never expected to settle into a sort of domesticity. But here they were. Gaston was teaching him to read. Lefou cooked them supper and attended to purchasing from the market their weekly rations. They hunted and horseback rode and drank together.

It was everything Lefou had ever hoped to dream for—and more.

Gaston’s thumb hooked under the soft curve of Lefou’s jaw, smoothing along the unblemished skin there. His voice sauntered through the air, reaching Lefou’s ears and filling his mind with tales of a faraway land, of people he never would have thought of without Gaston’s storytelling. With a hand propping the book open, and a hand folded half in Lefou’s hair and half cupping his cheek, Gaston swept Lefou away.

Dinner bubbled tamely in the pot above the fire, the homey atmosphere lulling Lefou into a dreamy sort of daze. He rose on occasion, entirely reluctant, to check up on the stew, but other than that, found himself content to settle in Gaston’s lap in the overstuffed armchair and listen to him read.

When dinner was ready, he spooned them out bowls of hearty soup. They ate, Gaston still reading absentmindedly. When they were finished with another chapter and had come to a good stopping place, Lefou and Gaston bid each other goodnight with a lingering touch to the back of Gaston’s hand.

Lefou went to sleep with a lofty feeling of contentment in his chest.


End file.
